An Available Space

Goodbye blog. It’s been good having you around.

I didn’t forget about you.I went to school and just started student teaching on January 20th. It took over my life. Good news is that I graduate in a month.

Regardless, my blog won’t be here anymore though. I just don’t feel comfortable in this place anymore. You haven’t heard the last of me.

Some of you may see what I mean.

Soon enough.

-Sara

Holy crap. You know how I wrote this post last week? It seems like I must have mistakenly sent a  personal ad straight to the big guy upstairs or something because…

I met someone amazing. You know that handyman figure I keep mentioning?  Him.

..and when I say amazing, I mean it. I don’t just say things like that. I’m nice, but I’m not that nice.If I don’t like you, I don’t pretend to. Not even for a second.

I’ve just about talked to him on the phone everyday since Friday(when called my home phone, said something about dropping off a receipt, and casually mentioned I could text him anytime). There have been constant adorable text messages received (and sent).  Normally, this would annoy the hell out of me. Instead, I smile when I see his name on my phone. This isn’t me. It NEVER has been.

I’ve seen him everyday since Monday, his birthday.  I wasn’t supposed to even see him on Monday. My friends and I just happened to be having dinner at the same place his friends were taking him out for his birthday. Fate? When did you start being nice to me? I’ll spare you all the details for the rest of the week, because I could just mush all over you guys if I thought that even sounded appealing.

To summarize; He’s cute, respectful, is easy to talk to, taller than me, older than me, has a cat he rescued from the roadside, has his own business and house, is a good kisser, my parents like him, and so much more.

Plus, he drives a truck AND hates tomatoes.

Ricky was “L” but he’s home with the flu,
Lizzie, our “O,” had some homework to do,
Mitchell, “E” prob’ly got lost on the way,
So I’m all of love that could make it today.

-Shel Silverstein

I love children’s poetry. It’s so cute and innocent. I think I will post more of it

.

Sidenote: Turns out I didn’t need to charm that cute handyman figure. He was charming enough for the both of us. Complicated, yet promising. That’s how I like ‘em.

When it comes to men, I’m picky. Extremely picky.  I’ve had a few pseudo-relationships, and not one of them lasted longer than a month or so. Those who have made it to a month, I’m pretty sure I was with just because I knew I shouldn’t be. I knew each of them didn’t really like me for anything other than the superficial exterior, and that only lasts so long.  I was fine with that. It was like a game. Can I change their mind? Maybe, maybe not. At least I was entertained.  The more of an ass the guy is, the longer I like him. I say that all I want is a nice guy, but in reality that’s not true. Sure, I want him to be nice, but I want him the challenge me too. Unconditional adoration is boring.

I don’t believe in soulmates. I don’t like the odds of there being only one person that exists just for me. There are too many men out there for me to believe that I can’t at least have two or three. Besides, with my luck my only soulmate lives in a cave somewhere, thinks he’s a bear, and only speaks Mandarin Chinese. I’m not looking for my soulmate. I don’t believe that love at first sight exists.

I just want to believe that there is at least one guy out there that I’m attracted to, feel comfortable with, likes to playfully argue with me, is funny, somewhat intelligent (but not excessively more than me), cannot be described by any synonym of clingy, is taller than me, drives a truck, likes small towns, and could potentially remodel a house one day.  Liking trivia games is also a plus. I’m not asking for much, just what I deserve. I’m not looking for him either, but if he happens to cross my path, I’ll certainly take advantage.

That said, I need to finish writing a paper so I can get a decent nights sleep tonight.  I’ve got an attractive handyman to charm tomorrow morning.

So 2009 finally hit a few days ago.  Surprisingly, this was the first time I actually went out on New Years. Normally, I go to a friend’s house and a few of us play board games all night until the ball drops. This year my friends and I did a little bar hopping around town. Now let’s keep in my mind I live in a VERY small town. Bar hopping isn’t as much fun as it sounds. I mean, I had fun because I got to see some friends that I adore, but going out around here just isn’t my cup of tea anymore.  Luckily, my friends are moving on with their lives and are starting to move out of their parent’s houses. Which means soon I’ll be able to just go to awesome little shindigs at their places. That I look forward to.

Now let’s analyze the above picture:

1 New Years tiara: Courtesy of lovely friends. Also, responsible for destroying my lovely hair. At one point I decided it would be a good idea to wear all 4 of the New Year’s tiaras as well as the three pretty pink ones that had just conveniently been sitting on the table. Shame nobody took a picture of that.

1 Coors light bottle: The only one of the four that night that I didn’t have to chug down in under 2 minutes due to the fact we were going to another bar.

1 beaded necklace:  It had a little Miller’s lite Christmas bulb attached to it, but it broke off. I pouted for about 20 minutes.

1 awesome new lipstick: Enough said.

1 missing friend: I cropped her out for her own sake really. Another friend claimed her face looked like she was doing something rather inappropriate.

License plates on the wall: A staple of almost all bars we went to. Why is that appropriate? License plates are on cars. People in bars shouldn’t drive cars. Shouldn’t they be discouraging driving? I suggest putting copies of people’s DUIs on the wall.

I don’t normally like doing these things, but this one was actually kind of fun.  I swear, it’s fun. So play! Don’t worry I’ve got a real post coming soon enough. Right now I’m too busy playing with my new exercise ball while procrastinating doing work for my online class. Very busy.

1. Pick 15 of your favorite movies.
2. Go to IMDb and find a quote from each movie.
3. Post them here for everyone to guess.
4. Strike it out when someone guesses correctly, and put who guessed it and the movie.
5. NO GOOGLING or using IMDb search or other search functions.

1. I see pride! I see power! I see a bad-ass mother who don’t take no crap off of nobody!
2. Well, this is great. If the ionization-rate is constant for all ectoplasmic entities, we can really bust some heads… in a spiritual sense, of course.
3. I think I’d miss you even if we’d never met.
4. No. It never bothered me. So you were an artist! Big deal! Elvis was an artist. But that didn’t stop him from joining the service in time of war. And that’s why he’s The King, and you’re a schmuck.
5. I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they’re gone. I guess I just miss my friend.
6. Wow, you’re fast. I’m glad I caught up to you. I waited 5 hours for you. Why is your coat so big? So, good news – I saw a dog today. Have you seen a dog? You probably have. How was school? Was it fun? Did you get a lot of homework? Huh? Do you have any friends? Do you have a best friend? Does he have a big coat, too?.. .
7. You wear black ’cause you can’t find anything else to wear? You found your sound ’cause you can’t play no better? You just tried to kiss me because “it just happened?” You should try take credit for something every once in a while, John.
8. People always say that change is a good thing, but what it really means is that something that you didn’t want to happen, has happened.
9. There will always be women in rubber flirting with me…
10. The worst thing that ever happened to me was on Christmas. Oh, God. It was so horrible. It was Christmas Eve. I was 9 years old. Me and Mom were decorating the tree, waiting for Dad to come home from work. A couple hours went by. Dad wasn’t home. So Mom called the office. No answer. Christmas Day came and went, and still nothing. So the police began a search. Four or five days went by. Neither one of us could eat or sleep. Everything was falling apart. It was snowing outside. The house was freezing, so I went to try to light up the fire. That’s when I noticed the smell. The firemen came and broke through the chimney top. And me and Mom were expecting them to pull out a dead cat or a bird. And instead they pulled out my father. He was dressed in a Santa Claus suit. He’d been climbing down the chimney… his arms loaded with presents. He was gonna surprise us. He slipped and broke his neck. He died instantly. And that’s how I found out there was no Santa Claus.
11. This is a battle, a war, and the casualties could be your hearts and souls.
12. Do you remember in kindergarten,how you’d meet a kid, and know nothing about them, then 10 seconds later you’d be playing like you were best friends, because you didn’t have to be anyone but yourself?
13. I’ve had three lovers in the past four years, and they all ran a distant second to a good book and a warm bath.
14. What should I tell them? If they dont want to die remember to knock?
15. Those French. They hate us, they smoke, they have a whole relationship with dairy products I don’t understand.

Am I Spanish? Not even close, but Feliz Navidad is my favorite Christmas song. Mainly, because it just has 4 lines that repeat over and over again. It makes for a fun and easy karaoke song, suitable for even the drunkest of drunks.

Anyway, I’ve had a pretty lovely Christmas so far. My parents, my brother, and I all did our Christmas morning routine of cinnamon rolls, watching the parade, and opening presents. Even the dog got one. Present wise, I got a good deal of clothes, a pretty new camera, lots of random bits and bobs, and three Shel Silverstein children’s poetry books (quite possibly what I was looking forward to the most). My Mom is working until 8 or so, and my Dad is already in the garage. I’m making my brother and I some chicken tenders and potato skins, not exactly the typical Christmas feast. I still love how Christmas works out. The eventful morning, inevitably leads into a typical afternoon.  Tomorrow we have the big family shindig.

What I really miss about Christmas is the childish anticipation of wondering what Santa is going to bring. At 23, part of me still wants to wait at the top of the stairs with my brother and bargain with my parents to let us go downstairs one step at a time. Thinking back, my parents were cruel. We had to wait at the top of the stairs, and stare directly at the tree with all the presents under it. Meanwhile, they were drinking coffee in the kitchen and debating if they were ready to set up the ancient video camera. Once we finally negotiated our way down to the final stair, my Mom would make us go back to the top just to get a shot of us going down the stairs on the camera.

I can’t wait to put my own kids through this torture one day.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! or…

Feliz Navidad, Prospero Ano y Felicidad.

Seriously. What is it about Billy Mays that makes him so compelling? I find myself unable to resist flipping the channel whenever I see his smiling happy face on an infomercial. Is it because he looks like Al Borland from Home Improvement?

The commercial that I keep being taunted with is the one for the Big City Slider. I’ve seen it at least 8 times in the last hour. I’m about to go to sleep in a bit, and I can’t tell you how much I’m craving one of these tiny hamburgers.

..And then! There’s Mighty Putty. Mighty Putty could totally fix all of those little problems in my apartment that I’m too lazy to call the landlord for. My toilet paper holder could actually be on the bathroom WALL!  Nothing else seems to stick that sucker to this impossible surface. If this stuff can pull a tractor trailer, it might be able to handle that job, right? Oh, and don’t even let the domestic in me get started on the Steam Buddy.

Some kind of conspiracy is going on here.  I would bet he’d make a pretty decent cult leader. He preys on the sleep deprived.

I also REALLY want a Bedazzler right now.

Maybe I should just go to bed and stop watching informercials. Goodnight.

BuBuResort just requested to follow me on Twitter. Looking at the description of this little getaway slightly disturbed me. Why? Well, it brings to mind a certain Lifetime movie I once watched.

This is the description on twitter:

“Perhentian Island Malaysia, is indeed a “trap” for the visitors who need to get away from it all. There is no escap. the blissful enjoyment and complete freedom”

Firstly, the choppy sentences put me off. It sounds a little Norman Bates-esque.  After all, there is no escape.  I have no interest in getting ‘trapped’ anywhere.  Especially somewhere that may have once been a vacation spot for pirates, as the following statement from their site would lead me to believe. The word  “ Perhentian” in Malay means stopover and according to local oral history, the islands were a stopover for the treasure ships plying the east-west shipping lanes. Also, if there is no escape, then clearly the pirates must still be there.

Anyway, the Lifetime movie. A woman and her friends go to some deserted island for her bachelorette party. They get stranded there, and then suddenly some of the girls start disappearing. Turns out the fiance of the blushing bride-to-be is in love with her best friend (who is also his ex-girlfriend), and killing all her friends was his plan to get her back. He set up the whole trip. A typical lifetime movie really.

So, I’m sorry BubuResort. I decline your request to follow me. I do not wish to recieve an invitation to any bachelorette parties on your deserted island, or be preyed upon by your pirates for that matter.

So I was just watching ‘Dress My Nest’ on the Style Network, and this episode featured a couple that was getting married in a week.  The woman was moving into her future husband’s apartment, and he was putting up such a fight to let her have any say on decorating. He just had to defend his entirely bland beige ways against his Costa Rican bride’s colorful tastes.  This got me thinking.

I don’t want to marry a man who  thinks he has good taste in decorating. I want minimal interference when decorating my future home.  I’m a small town girl. I don’t want someone too metropolitan, similar to the guy I dated over the summer.  I don’t want to live in the city. I want a house, not an apartment.I want to decorate with a mix of traditional and french country decor.

I  want a man who drives a truck, just because. Also, if I say I want a Chia pet for Christmas, he should know I’m serious. Then, the next time we’re drunk, he will help me name it.

My concluding thought? I have too much free time to think.